


Freudian slip

by itsalwayssunnyit



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games)
Genre: Aftercare, Banter, Daddy Kink, Flirting, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 16:50:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20177581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsalwayssunnyit/pseuds/itsalwayssunnyit
Summary: A minute before extraction, Adam calls Frank ‘daddy’. It’s all downhill from there.





	Freudian slip

**Author's Note:**

> english is not my mother language  
let me know if I mess up, please <3  
also, this is my first go at writing Daddy-kink

The problem is not even what he says, it’s...

Well, _that’s_ a lie.

What he says is _definitely_ the problem, but he wouldn’t even have noticed it weren’t for the _way_ Frank reacts.

Adam is sneaking out of what he hopes is the last in a long series of secured buildings, Malik waiting for him on the rooftop and Frank talking his ear off about how careless Adam is being, how he should wait for Frank to check the way first, and Adam means to say, alright, mom.

_Mom_.

As in, _stop fussing over me already, goddamnit_.

Somewhere between the idea forming inside his brain and the words coming out of his mouth, however, something goes terribly wrong. Maybe the fact that Frank is pretty much _not_ a woman or the lingering memory of the fucked up porn Adam ended up stumbling upon last night, who knows.

What he ends up saying is, “Whatever, daddy.”

And the thing is, he _wouldn’t_ have noticed his slip. But then there’s a pregnant pause in their banter through the Infolink and Frank lets out this little, “Oh,” like he just discovered something very, _very_ strange.

As Adam starts to circle back to the words he used, panic rises inside his throat. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_.

“And _that’s_ something I _never_ wanted to know,” Malik’s voice pops into their shared channel. Because of course she’s there to witness Adam’s fuck up. Of fucking _course_. “Malik _out_.”

“Fuck _me_,” Adam curses. Frank’s sharp intake of breath should be a hint that he’s better off staying quiet. Still, Adam goes, “_Mom_. I was gonna say mom. Not…”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Frank cuts him off before Adam can say _it_. “There’s an emergency exit leading to the rooftop to your left. I got it open. Malik is at the helipad already.”

“Pritchard…” Adam begins, the name lingering. He has no idea what to say.

Frank’s response is curt. “Not _now_.”

Adam curses again under his breath, “_Fuck. Me_. Fuck my life. Fuck this.”

Adam can almost hear Frank’s eyes rolling.

“You know what, Jensen? You can get to Malik on your own from here. I’ll see you when you get back.” Frank sounds more annoyed than amused and Adam has only a second to wonder why before the tech logs off their channel with a brusque, “Pritchard out.”

Adam abandons all stealth in favor of practically running out of the building, not really caring how loud or obvious he is. As he straps himself to his seat inside the aircraft, he grunts, “Don’t even _start_, Malik.”

“I told you, I _don’t_ want to know,” the pilot promptly replies, somewhere between amused and horrified. As soon as they’re out of the danger zone, though, she whispers to herself in wonder, “Daddy? _Pritchard_? Really, Adam?!”

Adam only groans in response, absolutely mortified.

Curiously, he can still hear the echo of Malik’s scandalized exclamation when, just a few hours later, Frank has him on his hands and knees on top of his own bed, terribly thick cock doing strange, amazing things to Adam’s insides as he pounds in and out of his body. All the while, Frank keeps asking if Adam likes it, likes Daddy’s cock.

“Fuck… yeah. Yes, I do,” Adam admits, more breath than voice at this point.

Having to say it aloud brings him that much closer to breaking, whatever is left of his organic body burning under the attention he’s receiving.

“Yes, you do, _what_?” Frank prods, punctuating the question with a sharp jab of his hips that has Adam keening as the tech’s fingers tangle into Adam’s short hair to pull his head back, forcing him to arch into his pushing thrusts.

“Yes, _Daddy_,” Adam corrects himself. He feels raw. He feels filthy. He feels _alive_. “Come on, _give_ it to me,” he begs, barely recognizing his voice.

It’s ridiculous how easy it was to get them here from that first slip of tongue. As soon as he arrived back with Malik, they went into David Sarif’s office to debrief before reports are filed, which means going step by step through everything that was done. Before ending the meeting, however, David asked, “And then you left the building?”, and Malik jumped in with, “Yeah, that’s when Adam called Frank Daddy.”

Adam remembers meeting Frank’s gaze for a second, face heating up under Frank’s almost bored glare as Malik used his _faux pas_ as a justification for going offline on Adam in the last crucial moments of a mission. She explained it amidst a fit of hysterical laughter, though, which ruined any semblance of seriousness from her part. And then Frank added that he was pretty used to Adam running his mouth and Sarif chastised all of them for behaving like children, but he was repressing a smile.

And, well, there’s only so much Adam could take. He stormed out. Of the room. Of the building. _They can write their own damn report_, he decided.

What he didn’t expect was for Frank to show up on his doorstep hours later muttering something about Malik _making_ him check in on Adam or whatever.

“Stop if, Jensen.” Frank’s voice cuts through the thick fog of lust, sharp and sudden, easy authority in it that makes Adam whine, thumb rubbing over the wet head of his cock on an upstroke, balls tight, body wired up to explode. He stops, though. Because Frank told him to. “Put your hands in front of you. Yeah, just like that.” The approval makes Adam choke on something too dense and scary to look at now. “You move them as much as an inch and I swear I’ll stop. I’ll get up and leave you there, fucked open and aching. Do you understand?”

Frank pauses, cock buried to the hilt into Adam’s body. Adam feels too full, body stretching further and further to accommodate the shocking onslaught of Frank’s desire. Goosebumps spreading across his skin, Adam shivers, letting out a breathless, “Fuck.”

“_Do_ you understand?” Frank insist, sliding out slowly and then plunging back inside, causing a soft moan to pour out of Adam’s lips.

“Yeah,” Adam replies, beyond speaking in complete sentences at this point. Sweat glistens on his skin, Frank’s fingers sliding as they trail up and down his sides, pushing his shoulders down, pulling his hips up at the perfect angle.

“Yes, what?” Frank prods.

“Yes, I understand, …” Adam replies, voice catching. He feels like he’s melting from the inside, legs parting further as his muscles, both organic and prosthetic, relax into the push-pull of Frank’s hips. He shivers when he adds, “… Daddy. Daddy, please, don’t stop.”

It surprises Adam how little surprising is the ease with which he yields control to Frank, how comfortable he feels being dominated like this. He hasn’t really felt this comfortable inside this new body. Ever. Frank doesn’t know that, though. There’s no way he could. Still, it soothes Adam’s hidden aches when Frank softly reassures him, hips pumping steadily. “I won’t. I want to hear you, though. What do you want?”

Adam sobs. Having Frank actively demanding him to talk should be uncomfortable, but it only makes him long for more. “Wanna come,” he chokes out. He hasn’t moved his hands. Frank hasn’t stopped.

“Yeah?” Frank groans, equally affected by Adam’s voice, it seems. His hips stutter, rhythm faltering as he leans forward, pushing more of his weight on top of Adam. “Wanna come on my cock?”

“Yeah. Harder,” Adam pleads, cock heavy with blood swinging between his legs. “Make me come, Daddy,” he moans, and Frank curses.

“Want me to touch you?”

“Yes. Please, Daddy. Touch me. Make me come.” Adam is half begging, half demanding. Frank’s hands slide under him, fingers spread across his ribs and chest to pull him with unexpected strength until Adam’s sitting on his lap. Adam moves with Frank, Frank’s cock buried inside him. When Frank wraps one hand around Adam’s hard cock, his other pressing deliciously against the tightness of Adam’s balls, Adam can’t help but shove into the perfectly tight grip, sobbing, “Yeah, just like that.”

Frank can’t really move with the same freedom in this position, but it doesn’t matter, because he is deep and perfectly pressed against Adam’s prostate. Adam grinds down as Frank touches his cock leisurely and expertly and his orgasm blindsides him. It almost hurts, how good it feels. Adam’s pretty sure he would have blacked out if it weren’t for all his augmentations. Frank strokes him through every wave, every aftershock, lips wet against the sweaty skin of Adam’s neck whispering sweet, filthy things.

Before Adam is fully back online, Frank pushes him back down onto the bed. “You have no idea,” he begins to assure the other man, but never finishes his thought because all his eloquence disappears as he slides his aching cock back inside Adam’s oversensitive body. Adam sighs and rests his face against the messy sheets, relaxing into accepting every thrust, used, pliant, whole.

Adam feels it when Frank comes, warmth spreading inside him. No condoms. It feels right to have Frank’s seed inside him, hot and sticky, clinging to his flesh, and Adam basks in the feeling for what feels like hours, time stretching out as the sweat cools over his skin. He comes out of his trance with Frank rubbing something warm and wet across his skin, between his legs.

Frank’s touches are careful, soft, but so real that Adam can’t continue to ignore the reality of what just happened. What they just did.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t have the courage nor the energy. Even when Frank calls his name, Adam doesn’t look at him.

“Breathe, Adam. Breathe,” Frank says, reading into Adam’s shallow breathing. Adam obeys, but it doesn’t help. What did he do? What the fuck did he do, this time? His body, his broken weaponized body that no one should be subjected to…

How will he ever come back from this?

Frank smooths a hand down Adam’s side as if he doesn’t mind that he’s broken, that he’s in pieces. “I’ll go into your kitchen real quick, alright? Just lie there. Relax. Color?”

It takes Adam a few seconds to remember their short negotiation from earlier. Green is go. Yellow, proceed with caution. Red means stop. Stop everything. Stop _now_. As they began, Frank asked a few times before trusting Adam to tell him to stop if he needed. Green. Green. Always bright neon green.

“Green,” Adam manages. “Just… give me a second.”

“Yellow, then. Not green,” Frank says, stepping back. He doesn’t sound offended in the slightest. “I’ll be right back.”

Adam’s eyes are dry, but his throat is tight as if he’s been crying. Frank comes back with a bottle water and half a chocolate bar. He tells Adam to drink and feeds him pieces of the chocolate and continues to talk until Adam comes back little by little, his panic still thick around them. Starved for affection as Adam is, though, he can’t fight Frank’s attention for long.

“Boy, they really did a number on you, didn’t they?” Frank marvels as Adam finally stops resisting and buries his face into the crook of the hacker’s neck. Frank smells good, musk and sweat and arousal still clinging to his skin.

Frank’s not talking about Adam’s augmentations, though. Not really. He’d have to be blind not to see the way Adam is trying to hide his body, pulling at the bedsheets even now. Frank lets Adam do what he needs, but still showers him in aftercare, mentioning, eventually, “Even though I like to pretend it’s not true. You’re… hard to resist. Handsome as you are. God knows I’ve tried.”

“Yeah? Tell me more,” Adam replies, voice rough. Frank visibly relaxes.

“No way. I’m _never_ saying that aloud again. I’ll deny if you tell anyone.” Adam lays a hand on top of Frank’s chest, staring at the contrast between the black of his augmented flesh and the milky fairness of Frank’s skin, thin black hairs between his pecs, his nipples small peach-colored circles. Frank takes a swing from the half-empty bottle of water from the side of the bed before asking, “Can I stay the night?” Adam takes the bottle from Frank’s hands and drinks too, wondering if Frank is expecting to be rejected or something. He sounds so unsure. “I really don’t want to leave you alone like this.”

“You don’t _have_ to stay.” As he says it, Adam hears the fine mix of lie and truth. No C.A.S.I.E input needed. He wonders if Frank hears it too.

“No, I _want_ to stay,” Frank replies in a hurry. “Do _you_ want me to stay?”

“If that’s what _you_ want.”

“That’s not what I asked…” Frank’s patience seems to be running thin. When Adam finally looks at his face, Frank is looking back, scowling. His smile is good-natured, however, when he concludes, “This is ridiculous. I’m staying. I _want_ to stay.”

Trying to cover his relief, Adam replies, “Your _face_ is ridiculous.”

As far as comebacks go, it’s not his best work, but it breaks some of the awkwardness between them. As they brush their teeth, Frank says that they don’t _have_ to talk about it, but it might be good. To clear things up.

Turns out they’re both more than fine with the daddy thing, which Adam could have concluded by himself, and aftercare is a thing which Adam will have no problems adapting to, despite it having surprised him more than Frank rimming him into a sobbing mess ten minutes after entering his apartment ever could. They do agree on one main rule, though.

“Not at work,” Adam says, looking at Frank sideways.

Frank nods, leaving the toothbrush Adam gave him next to Adam’s on the sink. “Definitely not at work.”


End file.
